


A Truer Knight

by kaitlia777



Category: 24
Genre: AU, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-26
Updated: 2010-03-26
Packaged: 2017-10-08 08:18:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/74574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaitlia777/pseuds/kaitlia777
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One of these days, Chloe had to learn to stay out of the field, but there could be good consequences....Written before Season 8</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Truer Knight

" There has to be some other way."

"Not according to our intel."

"Which also says LeGuerre's got his whole compound heavily fortified. Can't Chloe talk me through accessing their systems?"

"It'd leave too much to chance."

"Damn." Jack Bauer was not a happy man, This was not an entirely unusual state for him, but today events had conspired to darken his already somber mood. As head of field ops for the New York branch of the newly re-established CTU, his life wasn't generally full of unicorns and rainbows, but when national, possibly global destruction was imminent, well, that was enough to sour anyone's mood.

But that was the job and no matter how many times he tried to retire or follow another career path, he always ended up back at the CTU. He did the jobs others couldn't.

Looking across the briefing table, he locked eyes with Chloe O'Brien, the best CTU analyst, hacker and comms director he'd ever known. She was also his confidant, best friend and the person he trusted most in the world.

She was looking back at him, hazel eyes wide with concern. He knew she thought he was pushing himself too hard, too soon. It was only a few months ago that he had been exposed to a lethal toxin that had nearly killed him. But, now he had a clean bill of health and a fresh new terrorist threat to deal with and he was back in the game.

Brian Hastings, the director of their CTU branch, was looking over the whole room, then nodded decisively. "All right, Walsh, you'll go with Jack, Cole and Jo…Chloe, you'll run…."

******************************************************************************************

"I should be the one to go." Chloe wondered who had said that before she realized she had spoken.

Immediately, all eyes in the room were on her. Hastings looked surprised, as did Cole Ortiz. Jo Reese grinned and gave her a subtle thumbs up, while Dana Walsh, one of Chloe's subordinates, was glaring at her. Obviously, the blond thought she should be the one on the field team.

Jack's look was nearly inscrutable, but she knew those blue eyes better than anyone. He was proud of her, wanted her out there with him on the mission and, at the same time, wanted her to remain behind in the relative safety of the CTU. She smiled at him a bit, hoping she looked more confidant than she felt.

"Why should it be you?" Walsh was demanding. Chloe grimaced. Sometimes she wanted to smack the woman upside the head with a keyboard, or maybe go old school an use a phone book. She actually wanted to go out and face danger. Actually, Chloe mused, Dana was probably just being contrary. If Chloe had stayed quite, she'd probably be demanding to know why she was being the one sent out with the field team.

Bitch.

Glaring across the table, Chloe snapped, "What if LeGuerre's system is Linux based. Your Linux skills suck."

Dana sneered, "I can manage."

There had been hostility between them form day one. Apparently, Dana felt she should be running their department and was not happy to have to report to Chloe. Normally, Chloe wouldn't have cared less about how the other woman like their professional hierarchy, but she was so annoying! Really, sometimes she felt like Dana had less people skills than she did.

"In this situation," Hastings said with finality, "managing isn't good enough. O'Brien, field team. Go in 15 people."

******************************************************************************************

Dismissed, Jack led the rush out of the briefing room, hand on Chloe's back to hurry her with him. He noted Cole being pulled aside by Dana, his fiancée, probably to complain about being excluded from the field op. He could understand why Chloe disliked her. She was…grating.

"You sure about this, Chloe?" he asked her quietly as they hurried down the halls toward the locker room to kit Chloe up. Reese, practical agent that she was, ran ahead of them to rustle up some gear in Chloe's sizes. Black pinstripe trousers, a soft green blouse and black ballerina flats, while pretty, were not good 'infiltration of an enemy stronghold and escape' wear.

"No," she said nervously. She really didn't like going out in the field. "But hey, we gotta do what we gotta do, right?"

He nodded. One of the many things he loved about her was that she understood what he did, got why he did it. Some people couldn't deal with the reality of a counter terrorist agent's life, but Chloe knew better. Most of the time, he had her voice in his ear, guiding him through ops and even when she wasn't, he knew she was only a call away.

"I'll be right there with you," he assured her. "We all will."

She nodded as they entered the locker room. The offices were still under construction and, thus far, only one locker room was open. Reese and the one other woman on the field team had co-opted one corner of the room, but neither had any real privacy issues. In their line of work, you showed professional respect for your team mates. It was the only way they could function as a unit.

Speaking of Jo, the young woman appeared from behind one of the lockers, a bundle of clothes in her arms. She offered Jack a brief nod, then hustled Chloe off to prepare.

******************************************************************************************

Black cargo pants, long sleeved top and combat boots. Not her usual style, but she could make an exception, as she really preferred not being dead.

The Kevlar vest Reese was strapping her into was something very new though. The lightweight bulletproof vest was designed to provide maximum ballistic protection while being ergonomic, comfortable and flexible. They could even be concealed fairly effectively under a jacket for undercover work.

"Just a precaution," Jo assured Chloe, then asked, "Waist or thigh holster?"

The vest was long enough that it brushed her belt and she didn't want to chance having her weapon knocked loose, so she said, "Thigh."

With quick motions, the field agent outfitted her with a TAC Serpa CQC Holster, the Y-harness leg straps tightened to Chloe's comfort, then handed her a Glock.

All CTU agents, even techs like her, were required to qualify with a sidearm. After she'd had the dubious honor of successfully defending herself from an assassin with an automatic rifle, she'd taken the time to learn a bit more about that weapon as well. Jack had even taken her to an outdoor firing range and she got to shoot some really big guns. That had been fun.

At her own locker, Reese was adjusting her heavy duty TAC vest, which had additional flaps and pockets to store ammo, spare weapons and assorted munitions. She too had chosen a thigh holster, hers double sided and also seemed to hold sheathed knives.

Chloe liked her and today she was beginning to see why Jack had hand picked her for his team. For the most part, they had been allowed to assemble their own staffs, but for a few, political appointments. Dana was one of those appointments.

Offering up a smile, Chloe slipped the strap of her padded field tech kit over her shoulder and said, "Okay, ready as I'm gonna be."

"Ooh-Rah," Reese said with a grin and gave Chloe's armored shoulder a friendly thump. "Let's move out."

******************************************************************************************

Standing by the doors of the locker room, Jack waited for Chloe to finish up. Jo was first out, tossing him a nod before jogging off towards the motor pool. Soon after, Chloe emerged, hands up, fixing an elastic around her long hair to hold it back. She looked resolved, ready… and really, really hot.

With a start, Jack asked himself where that thought had come from. He always thought Chloe was pretty, had a beautiful smile and lovely eyes, but the sight of Chloe…his Chloe kitted out in Kevlar, wearing a thigh holster was just….

Yeah, that train of thought would have to wait until after they'd saved the world.

Again.

"Jack?" Chloe asked, clutching her computer case against her side. "I'm ready."

He nodded and turned to head down the hall, his hand once again finding a place on her back. Where earlier he had felt a delicate blouse, warmed by her skin, he now encountered cool, hard Kevlar.

Hot, a voice in his head taunted. Our Chloe! In commando gear! Admit it, you've totally had this dream. It's no use lying to yourself.

Giving himself a brisk mental shake, Jack hoped this mission would go smoothly. He didn't want anything to happen to Chloe. Plus, he was pretty sure he had to give new and intense consideration to certain things….  
****************************************************************************************

Gunfire.

Shouting.

Voices on the comms.

Adrenaline.

Running through yet another unmarked hall or storage room.

"Of course it couldn't be a clean op," Chloe muttered to herself, ducking behind a large packing crate in yet another huge, warehouse-like room. "Why is it these guys always have their bases at warehouses or refineries, usually by a river? Is there a handbook? Terrorism 101: Lairs and Other Dens of Evil Doing. Cause…."

Beside her, Jack reached over and placed a hand over her mouth. Rough palm and callused fingers on her skin silenced her and he murmured, "Shhh, ears open. Anyone else make it out?"

Over the comms there were a series of affirmatives and Jack continued, "Anyone got a distraction ready?"

"Big or little?" came Jo's reply.

Jack gave Chloe a nod, which she thought he meant to be reassuring as he said, "Big."

She could hear the heavy sounds of approaching footsteps and harsh, angry voices. She held her Glock at ready, prepared to fire if the need arose. Jack had his own weapons out and was angling his body in a way that positioned him between Chloe and the doorway.

That proved unnecessary, as an enormous boom rocked the building, the lights flickered and died, reddish emergency lighting flaring up as the assorted bad guys began shouting and the footsteps pounded off in the opposite direction.

"Well, that was effective," Chloe commented, then followed Jack from their hiding place and back out into the labyrinthine halls.

Less than 2 minutes (and only one guard subdued by a sleeper hold) later they emerged from the complex and made their way to the meeting point, where a CTU SUV quickly retrieved them.

Chloe didn't know how Jack did this as often as they did. Adrenaline was pouring through her veins, she felt sweaty and shaky, while Jack barely looked like he was breathing hard as she reported their success to Hastings.

Offhandedly, Jack asked the agent driving, "Reese?"

"Blew the top two floors off the building. C4. Jumped into the river. An extraction team is going to pick her up a few miles down stream."

Sitting back, Chloe wondered how many people could say their work day consisted of infiltrating a terrorist compound, hacking said terrorist's computer system, getting in a firefight and having a colleague blow up part of a building to help you escape.

She bet that number was pretty small.

******************************************************************************************

Looking sideways at Chloe, Jack didn't bother to suppress his smile. She was still vibrating with adrenaline, cheeks flushed and eyes bright. Her breaths were rapid, but somewhat restricted by the Kevlar.

"Here," he said, reaching over and loosening the heavy Velcro straps that held the vest in place. "How are you doing, Chloe?"

She looked at him and let out a laugh. "Well, other than coming to the realization that I need to avoid field ops in the future, I'm just peachy."

"I don't know," he said, allowing a bit of humor to color his voice. It wouldn't do to sound too happy, as that might thoroughly shock the agents up front. "You did good in there, with the compute and facing potential hostiles."

"I did kick some ass, huh?"

He found himself chuckling at how pleased she sounded as she said that and nodded. "You did," he agreed, then had to tease, "One of these day's a retirement's going to stick. Someone's going to have to take over."

She raised a brow at him and huffed, "And one of these days you will find a durable field agent protégée to take up your mantle while you retire to Palm Springs or where ever, but it isn't going to be me!"

Pondering this, he asked, "Palm Springs? I was thinking one of the smaller, less populated Hawaiian islands."

"That's all well and good, but can we not speculate on retirement for when we're not in the middle of an operation." Hastings's voice sounded over their comms. He'd probably only let them chat for that long because, by this point, most people at the CTU were more than a little scared of Jack. Sure, they respected and admired him, but he knew they were just waiting for the day he'd snap.

Not Chloe though. Even when he was holed up in his office in the worst of moods, she would march in, unperturbed and call him out, demanding he stop scaring the rest of the staff. Not that she didn't find their terror a little funny. More than once, she'd seriously asked him to glower in Dana's general direction, just to freak the blond woman out.

"Yes, sir," Jack said, tossing Chloe another small smile. She grinned back and tried to push back the tendrils of hair that had escaped her ponytail. One stubborn lock remained clinging to her neck, and before he could think better of it, Jack brushed it back behind her ear himself.

With a soft smile, she said, "Thanks."

He nodded, because really what else could he say while in a car with two other CTU agents and live on comms with their boss. Certain things were not meant for public scrutiny.

******************************************************************************************

Things went surprisingly smoothly from there. Upon their return to the CTU, Chloe and her team sifted through the information she pulled from LeGuerre's system. Apparently, LeGuerre was as anal and prolific in his record keeping as the Nazi's. Apparently, he hadn't read Terrorism 103: Compartmentalize, Compartmentalize, Compartmentalize.

In less than six hours, government agents, in co-operation with MI-5 and French Intelligence, staged assaults on LeGuerre cells in Los Angeles, Miami, Washington DC, Paris and London. The compound in New York had already been reduced to a smoldering pile of rubble, thanks to fires that resulted from Reese's excessive fondness for C4.

All in all, a good days work.

Tossing her borrowed field clothes into a hamper in the locker room, Chloe grinned, ready to head home for a night of Pizza and TV. She had a few episodes of Leverage TiVoed and thought she might catch up on the show. Prescott was spending the week at Morris's, so a night off was actually a night off. With that in mind, she shrugged into her jacket and shouldered her purse.

As she made her way towards the door, she glanced down one of the empty rows of lockers. At least, she thought the room was empty, but she'd been wrong. Jack was sitting on the bench by his locker, bare from the waist up, elbows resting on denim clad knees, head bowed. He was leaning forward to reveal at his waist a tan line. The white skin contrasted starkly with the darker back and her eyes explored the exposed musculature, toned from years of hard work.

In the bright fluorescent light, Chloe became aware of several things. The first, most fanciful thought, was that Jack had managed to avoid falling victim to the middle aged spread that softened many men's waist lines…of course, he was barely middle age, but somehow she couldn't imagine him ever letting that happen.

The second was a wave of sadness. She'd never seen the extent of heavy scarring left on his body from his 2 years in a Chinese prison. They had faded somewhat over the course of the paste couple of years, but the sheer number of them, some thin and precise, others broad and ragged, was heart breaking.

The third was puzzlement. Purple bruising discolored one side of his rib cage, three areas of injury that nearly blended into one angry mass. There hadn't been much hand to hand in today's op and she was certain she hadn't seen anyone land a blow to his side.

"Jack?" she said, voice echoing off of the metal lockers and tile walls. "What happened? Are you okay?"

He started, glancing up at her . He reached for a clean shirt then hesitated and winced, saying, "Fine, Chloe. The vest did it's job."

"You got shot!" How had she not known about that?

She stepped down the aisle, dropping her purse as she settled onto the bench beside him. "Did you at least get checked by medical?"

He shook his head. "It's just bruising, Chloe. I know what broken ribs feel like."

With a frown, she raised her hand and placed it on the most livid bruising. His skin was hot, angry and inflamed under her questing fingers, but she didn't want to probe too forcefully, for fear that she might cause him more pain. She traced the purple blue points of impact, fingers spiraling out to the reddened skin that surrounded them, stroking where the discoloration faded into healthy skin or old scars.

His sharp breath, followed by a muttered curse as his ribs were strained, made Chloe look up and meet his gaze. Heavy, somewhat dilated eyes peered back at her softly, similar to his expression in the SUV, when he fixed her hair.

It was then that she realized she was sitting there, alone with Jack, her hands on his bare skin. This was the point where her awkward, foot in mouth disease normally kicked in. A lifetime of saying the wrong thing at exactly the wrong moment wasn't something one just grew out of…except, apparently, she did, as she just smiled and said, "Well, if you're not gonna take care of yourself, I guess I'll do it. Let's get you dressed…You like pepperoni pizza, right?"

Jack smiled in response and gave a nod.

******************************************************************************************

He'd thought himself alone in the locker room as he struggled out of the grey, long sleeved t-shirt he had been wearing for far too many hours. His sore side protested and once again he was grateful for the efficacy of the CTU's new Kevlar vests. During the firefight at LeGuerre's, he'd taken three rounds in the vest, not enough to drop him when the adrenaline was pumping, but enough to make him seriously miserable now.

Chloe had startled him when she called his name. He hadn't heard her, the soles of her flats soft and quiet on the floor, so unlike the heavy boots of field agents or the tap tap of heels. He looked up to see her staring, and reached for a shirt out of reflex, but was stopped by a tug at his side.

If there was anyone he trusted to see his battered, scarred skin, it was Chloe. True, she'd never seen the full extent of the damage, but had seen his hand and arm and was not a stupid woman.

She moved over to join him on the bench, assessing his injuries, questioning and finally probing gently. It hurt where the soft pads of her fingers brushed the deep bruises, tingled slightly on the scars. As her touch moved to healthy flesh, the tingles increased and he took a deep breath.

His ribs registered their immediate and vehement protest at that action and he worked to keep his breaths steady and regular as Chloe looked up, locking her big hazel eyes on him. Moments passed as they held each others gaze before she smiled and basically told him she was taking him home to look after him.

He found he was very okay with that idea and smiled as he agreed.

Picking through the sparse selection of shirts in his locker, he frowned. One t-shirt had been a gift from Kim, who seemed intent on dragging his sartorial style into the 21st Century and had given him a few Ed Hardy shirts. Personally, he thought they were hideous, so he just chose the blue Hanes T instead.

It wasn't a comfortable process, pulling the shirt over his head, but Chloe helped, then eased his jacket onto his shoulders. She gathered up her purse as he gingerly picked up his messenger bag and together they made their way out of the CTU for the night.

******************************************************************************************

Between the two of them, they polished off a large, extra cheese and pepperoni pizza, an order of Buffalo Chicken and a six pack of Molson Gold. Though Jack hadn't seen Leverage before, he enjoyed the episodes Chloe set the TV to play. It was a light hearted caper show and every episode ended with the good guys winning and the bad guys in jail or out a lot of money.

Just the thing for a relaxing evening.

As a new episode started, Chloe looked at Jack out of the corner of her eye. He was sitting forward on the couch head hung low as he rolled his shoulders. The action did not appear to relieve the tension in his back and neck, a result of today's injuries, as he began twisting his head from side to side.

Before she could rethink her actions, she shifted onto her knees, moving closer to him on the couch. "Turn a bit. Back to me," she ordered, placing her hands on his shoulders and ignoring her general rule about limiting physical contact. Then again, that rule never had really applied to Jack.

He hesitated for a moment, but his discomfort must have been greater than any wariness he felt, because he accepted her offer. She knew he would know it was not an actual demand, despite how she worded things. He was as fluent in Chloe-speak as she was at understanding and translating the mumbles and growls that peppered Jack's speech.

She placed her thumbs on either side of his vertebrae, where the neck and skull met. Fingertips under his ears and along his jaw line, she began to apply pressure in small circles, that grew wider and wider as his muscles loosened and relaxed..

Five minutes later found her hands supporting the weight of his head, able to roll it side to side without any resistance. She turned it slightly, peeking at his strong profile. The long, blond lashes rested on his cheekbones as he dozed. Gently, she eased his chin to his chest, so as to have better access to his shoulders.

Her thumbs followed his spine, fingers manipulating the muscles within their reach, careful not to stray too far in the direction of the bruised ribs. She took extra care to seek the knots that had formed around his shoulder blades. Some of them seemed to be nearly the size of her fist and were stubborn, took a loot of pressure and repetition to release. When she reached the base of his spine, her hands lingered to massage the lower back, tight, tense muscles telling her he carried a lot of stress there. He stirred a bit, then she applied herself to the knots hidden deep in the trapezoid muscles. His torso sagged lower and lower as his muscles relaxed in response to her ministrations.

Impulsively, she pulled him back against her torso, his head against her stomach, shoulders resting on her thighs as she slipped her hands down his chest to his pectoral muscles. Through his shirt, she drew lazy circles with her fingers, before pressing hard and deep into the tight muscle. She could feel his chest hair through the fabric, an additional hint of friction against her fingers. His head rubbed against her abdomen, adding sensation layered upon sensation.

A purely friendly gesture had taken a decidedly erotic turn, but she caught herself before passing her thumbs over his nipples. She breathed deeply, breasts rising and falling just above his eyes. She looked down to meet his gave, hazy and sleepy, but there was definitely lust there as well. She knew he was seeing the same thing as he looked at her.

Question was, which of them was going to make the first move?

*****************************************************************************************

A nice evening of pizza, beer and mindless TV with Chloe was just about Jack's idea of a perfect night. Maybe it was because their professional lives were so insane, maybe it was because he felt like he was getting old, but normality was something to be prized and enjoyed.

His bruised and abused body began registering some complaints, so he sat forward to try and work out some of the cramps and tension. His muscles seized up when he twisted a particular way, so he tried to hang his head real low. He rolled his shoulders, trying to loosen the muscles, but it didn't work, so he rolled his head about, knowing he looked foolish but he knew his body would thank him in the morning.

He felt Chloe move from her seat to a spot on the couch much closer to him.

"Turn a bit. Back to me." To the uninformed, it would have sounded like an order, but Jack knew she was offering to help. He always knew what she meant as opposed to what actually made it's way out of her mouth. It was one of the reasons they worked so well together.

She was offering to massage his sore, aching muscles. Chloe wasn't big on touching others or being touched, but she'd never shrugged off his hands and she had earlier inspected his bruised ribs. So he nodded and shifted his position. "Thanks."

She began by placing her thumbs on either side of his spine, where neck met head. She followed that up by placing her fingertips gently under his ears and along the jaw line. Moving in small circles, she began to apply pressure, letting them grow wider and wider as his muscles loosened.

Her touch was assured, confident. She's done this before, he realized. Contemplating who Chloe had done what with when occupied him for several minutes, until, finally, he couldn't fight the fatigue any longer.

He had to contain himself when her hands reached the base of his spine. That woke his hormones up. She was basically massaging the top of his ass, little fingers slipping past the waist of his jeans as she worked the muscles. If it were anyone else, he would swear she was copping a feel. She must have noticed that he had begun to awaken, because her hands traveled to the knots hidden deep in his trapezoid muscles. He sagged lower and lower, so relaxed he found that couldn't hold himself up.

Without warning she pulled his unresisting body against hers. His head came to rest just below her breasts. If he moved an inch he might have been liable for sexual harassment charges. While he pondered that, she slipped her hands down his chest to my pecs and began to draw lazy circles with her fingers all over his front. Then she pressed hard and deep into his flesh. The shirt tugged at his chest under the friction of her fingers and he had to shift, head rubbing against her abdomen.

He blinked his eyes open as he felt her intake of breath, saw her breasts rise and fall barely a quarter of an inch above his nose. Her eyes dropped to meet his and he saw the desire he felt reflected there.

There had been looks and touches, heavy with emotion and want, but always ignored. She was Chloe, he was Jack. Together they were unbeatable, unstoppable. Through all the hardships, she had been there for him and he knew he loved her.

Slowly, gently, he raised one of his hands and rested it over hers for a moment before raising it and placing a warm kiss against her palm.

*****************************************************************************************  
The feel of his warm, moist lips against her palm sent little shivers coursing up her arm and Chloe tightened her free hand in the fabric of Jack's shirt. Blood pounding in her ears, she wished they were in a position that gave her better access to his lips. With her lips.

It seemed like Jack was having the same thoughts, as he released her hand and rolled into a sitting position… or at least attempted to, but was brought up short by protesting ribs. He grabbed his side, groaned and half slumped against the back of the couch, hissing curses through his teeth.

Well, if that wasn't a mood killer, Chloe didn't know what was. "Oh, God," she breathed, scrambling to try and help push him into a more comfortable upright position. "Are you…well, obviously not okay, but…want some Ibuprofen?"

Jack gave a nod and she stood, casting a concerned look at him as she hustled into the bathroom. Opening the medicine cabinet, she pulled out the bottle of pills. As she made her way back to the couch, she ruefully thought perhaps it was for the best. Things were moving fast, they weren't being logical about this.

She wasn't saying it was a bad thing, God no, but a little restraint might be…who was she kidding, she just wanted a little time to wrap her brain around the idea that this was really happening, maybe put on something sexier than white cotton panties.

Opening the bottle, she shook out two pills and handed them to Jack, who swallowed them dry. He looked pale and a little shaky and, for a moment, she thought about how he had looked when he had nearly died those few months ago. She'd thought he was going to die then and it had taken every ounce of her reserve to keep on working as though everything was fine. But, like always, she had done as he asked.

Everything had turned out all right, they'd stopped the bad guys, saved the world and Jack had lived. All they'd done, all they'd been through had led them to this point and she just wished the journey had been a bit less traumatic.

As it was, she slumped back onto to the at Jack's non injured side and he wrapped his arm around her. This was nice, she decided, letting her head fall against his shoulder. His arm was warm and firm behind her neck, fingers catching hers as she reached up and caught his hand. She felt his lips land on the crown of her head and smiled.

Yeah, they were good. There was no rush.

*****************************************************************************************

Of course, the world had to go and try to destroy itself.

Or rather, some of the terrorist factions had decided to work together, putting aside their differences to try and take out the US. Then, when they finished, they could duke it out amongst themselves.

So for about a week, Chloe and Jack found themselves living in a world of constant chaos, fear and work, strung out on caffeine and no doze, catching sleep in snatches of minutes here and there. Chloe had coordinated over 40 field ops on comms, hacked more tech than even she imagined humanly possible and thought Jack and his field agents managed to get themselves killed a half dozen times.

The only thing worse would have been if Prescott had been in the city, but at the first hint of impending doom, she had called Morris and told them to leave the city. She couldn't go into detail, as he no longer worked for the CTU, but he knew the tone she used and bolted for Vermont. Between the two of them, the had decided no one would want to blame a place known for hippies, syrup and Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream.

Jack had an even worse time of it, having been up close and personal to three explosions (none of them nuclear, thank god), been in two burning buildings (Though Chloe was pretty sure he set one of the fires) and a helicopter crash, participated in several fire and fist fights, lost a few of his agents and been shot. Medical had pulled the bullet out of his shoulder, along with random shrapnel, stitched several wounds that would add to his collection of scars.

Wrapping up comms after the final cell (that they knew of) had been put down with extreme prejudice by a large group of, oddly enough, Marines and Air Force soldiers in Colorado, Chloe made her way down to Medical. It was fairly crowded and she looked around for Jack or another familiar face.

Dana was hovering by Cole's bed, as the young man had been knocked out in one of the multiple explosions. The black streaks on her cheeks said she used way too much, non-waterproof mascara, but, because she was visibly still upset Chloe offered her a reassuring nod. Considering the animosity in their relationship, a smile would have been too much, probably would have made her think Cole was dying or something.

Jo Reese was sitting on one of the exam beds, a pissed off medic bent over her thigh, berating her over something. Chloe stepped towards her, as she was the member of the field team she knew best. Reese offered her a tired smile. "Hell of a week, huh?"

"Yeah," Chloe agreed wanly. "Have you…What the hell did you do to your leg?"

Her thigh was marred by a strange mangled mess that looked almost burnt. Kind of smelled burnt, too.

The woman arched a brow and offered a shrug. "I had to stop the bleeding in the field. It doesn't hurt as much as it looks like it should."

The medic snorted. "Just wait till the adrenaline and painkillers overloading your system fade."

"Is there permanent damage?"

"Besides a hideous scar, no."

"Then I'll deal," Jo crossed her arms and settled back. "Jack went off to his office a few minutes ago, Chloe."

"Thanks," Chloe said, leaving Jo to continue trading snarls with the medic. The fact that Jack had walked out of Medical under his own power was promising, but if he was mobile it also meant he was well enough to be stoic and pretend like he wasn't hurting. She was fairly certain that, if possible, Jack would try and pass anything short of decapitation off as a minor injury with a growled, "I'm fine."

And it wasn't like anyone was gonna call him on it. Except Chloe, when she caught him.

Fortunately, he wasn't trying to hide, just stalking around his office like a caged tiger, totally wired on adrenaline and caffeine. Chloe entered the room, closing and locking the door behind herself and just stared at him. He was battered, bruised, a little singed and dusty, but blessedly alive. Once again, she had known there was a chance Jack might not make it through a crisis, despite a somewhat humorous blog on the CTU server that had a list of 'Jack Bauer Facts' that was not unlike the Chuck Norris one on the 'Net.

But Chloe knew, despite all he had survived, he was only human and. Thus, one of these days, he wasn't going to survive.

That thought brought tears up to prick at her eyes as Jack saw her and offered a smile, breathing, "Chloe."

"Jack." She took four steps, closing the space between them, and looked up to meet his gaze, noting dust or soot caught in the fine lines around his eyes. Very slowly, she lifted her hands and put them against his chest, and almost instantly his breath hitched. She could feel his heart thudding against her hand, could feel his muscles tremble, the stress of the past few weeks having built to a near bursting point. Even through the fabric of his black t-shirt, his skin felt warm and vital her hands.

"Jack," she murmured, his name again. "I'm glad you're back."

"Chloe." He looked down at her, eyes a bit wild, a bit needy. "I…."

She leaned into him fractionally, letting her breasts brush against his chest lightly, and a long, low, rumble emerged from his throat. He lowered his head a bit, burying his nose in her hair, and she heard him draw in a long breath.

"You smell good," he whispered into the shell of her ear, making her shiver happily. At least she though it was a shiver, but everyone around the CTU had caffeine tremors by this point.

"Yeah, there's nothing sexier than two day old shampoo, red bull and burnt circuitry," she said dryly. Chloe shifted her head a little, her nose against his throat, inhaling his scent. Usually he smelled clean and crisp, like soap, detergent, gun powder and some kind of piney aftershave, but today there was sweat and smoke and cordite. Maybe a little bit of blood in the mix too, but under it all was Jack and something inside her flared hotly.

She brushed her lips over the tendons in his neck, then let her tongue slide out and lick him there. A long, low sound of anguish escaped from his throat, and he wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her against him.

She could already feel his erection beginning to bulge against her belly, and she pressed against it, rubbing against him, intent on hearing him make that sound again. It was the stress of the past few weeks, she decided. They needed an outlet, and, since they had been heading in this direction before the world went bug nuts, this was it.

He pulled her to him more roughly, and she pushed up against him, loving the way their bodies fit together. He was taller than her, but didn't tower over her, which she liked. Breathing harshly, he lifted a hand and cupped her face, looking down at her with lust dark, heavy-lidded eyes.

"Chloe," he muttered. "We really shouldn't... not here. Home, with a bed would be good."

Her mind boggled for a moment, but the part of her that wasn't hormone addled recognized it was a good suggestion. Home. Okay. They could do that at another time. "Later."

"Uh." He looked like he was searching his brain for an effective argument, but was coming up empty. Other things were far more urgent. She could relate. "You sure?"

She pressed her body against his, feeling the heat of his skin, the firm strength of his muscles, the obvious masculinity, and she wanted him more than ever.

Screw the rules of workplace conduct. She didn't have the slightest interest in them right now and really, when had she and Jack ever given a flying fuck about playing it safe. "Do I seem unsure?"

He only hesitated for a second, then grinned and reached down, hands finding purchase on the back of her thighs, lifting her and carrying her the few remaining steps to his desk. Various and sundry office supplies were swept aside, scattering over the floor. The small, rational part of her brain noted with some relief that his laptop was not amongst them. He set her on the so that she was sitting up, facing him.

"Jack," she said., but found that was the extent of her verbal ability for the moment.

He opened his mouth, but seemed to be suffering from a similar malady. "Chloe," he said, then kind of waved as if asking if the desk worked for her.

The corners of her mouth quirked up and she nodded. Who hadn't had an office fantasy or two? True, she never actually thought she'd be acting one out, but that was neither here nor there as he put his arms around her, pulled her close and kissed her, hard. There was gentleness and seduction in his kisses, but the over riding emotion was need. They weren't going to take things slowly this time, injuries or no.

His tongue explored her mouth, tasting her, dancing over her tongue, the roof of her mouth. She met his tongue with her own, stroking and tangling and flirting. He groaned and pulled her against him harder, feeling her breasts push against his chest, her thighs on either side of his, his denim clad erection brushing lightly against the crotch of trousers. She really wished their clothes weren't in the way.

******************************************************************************************

Clothes were evil. Jack came to that conclusion as there continued to be layers of clothing between Chloe and himself.

Her thoughts must have been quite, because she bunched up his t-shirt, sliding her hands up underneath it, hands stroking over the bare, marked skin of his back. He broke away from the kiss and let his head drop back, neck arching, teeth gritted.

"You like it when I touch you," she whispered, a statement not a question. Some part of his brain registered that she sounded quite pleased by this revelation.

"Yes. God yes, Chloe."

She reacted to his tone by putting her hands all over him, stroking his back and his chest and his hair, hands caressing, tracing, mapping the scars as though memorizing them. He gave another long, drawn-out groan, and she laughed softly. "Like that, Jack?"

Speech was beyond him, so he nodded wordlessly.

She leaned forward and nipped, teeth grazing his Adam's apple. "If you wanted, you could touch me, too."

He realized he'd been overwhelmed by the sensations she was creating, by the fact that he was doing this with Chloe, in his office, on his desk, that his hands had fallen to his sides, clenched into fists. Relaxing his hands, he began brushing them over her. She was wearing a pale purple top. He liked it-- it was a good color on her, though he liked green the best-- but it had to go. He pulled it off, exposing quite a lot of her creamy flesh, and discovered she was wearing a white bra that only covered about half of her breasts, displaying her cleavage nicely.

He stared, wanting to have this picture permanently burned into his mind. He'd learned long ago that a beautiful memory could get you through some hard times, keep you sane.

"Chloe," he rumbled, voice even deeper and more growly than usual. "You're beautiful."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, please."

That was a typically Chloe comment and he couldn't suppress a smile. She never took compliments well, and tended to brush them off or respond sarcastically. "I mean it, Chloe. You're gorgeous."

"It's a good bra."

He reached for the clasp, which was in the back-- It had taken years of practice for him to figure out how the hell the damn things worked-- unfastened it, and tossed the bra away. He gazed at her for a long moment. "Nope. Still gorgeous."

She rolled her eyes again, but he just cupped her breasts in his hands, kneading gently as he continued to watch her.

With a playful growl of her own, she said. "You get to stare, I do too." She yanked at his t-shirt, managed to pull it over his head, and studied him the way he'd been studying her. The scars did not deter her, in fact the opposite was true. They were a part of Jack, told the story of what he had survived and thus, were beautiful in their own way.

"Nice," she said at last. "Very nice."

Leaning forward, she began brushing kisses over his bare chest, and his brain short-circuited again. Her hands were on his back, her lips on his chest and shoulders, and he let his hands roam all over her, too, touching her soft skin and her soft, somewhat rumpled hair.

Then her lips brushed over his nipple and he made a noise that some might classify as a whimper. But it totally wasn't, cause Jack Bauer did not whimper. Ever. That was his story, and he was sticking to it.

She lifted her head, wicked grin on her face. "Like that?"

He ground his teeth together. "Just a bit, yes."

She did it again. Pleasure shot through him and something inside him just seemed to break. He couldn't take it any more. Without pretense, he shoved her over onto the desk-- not roughly, but not really gently, either. She kicked off her shoes and he stripped off her pants and panties, then gripped her knees, pushing them apart.

This wasn't exactly how he'd pictured the day ending, but he would admit to having thought about it over the years. This was a fantasy come to life. Chloe spread out on his desk, naked and waiting for him.

Her hair gleamed in the low light of the office and her skin made him think of cream and silk. He could see her breasts rising and falling as she panted for breath, could see her exposed pink flesh glistening with arousal, and a renewed sense of need flooded him.

Part of him wanted to just unzip his jeans and slide into her, but he wanted to make sure she was ready. And she looked so turned on as she stared at him, her legs spread wide, her most intimate flesh exposed to him, that he couldn't help himself. He bent and pressed a kiss there.

She jerked, whether from shock or pleasure he wasn't sure. "Jack," she gasped. "No, Jack, plenty of time for that later..."

Ignoring her half hearted protest. He ran his hands down her thighs, parted her with his fingers, and began to stroke her very slowly, carefully with his tongue. Her protests died away, and she moaned, dug her fingers into his hair, and held on.

Her arousal was spicy on his tongue and heat and need swirled inside him, more intense than ever. He slid a finger into her, then two, feeling her slick channel stretch to accommodate him, feeling her hips push eagerly against him. After a few minutes, he was sure she was ready for him and God knew he was ready for her.

He started to lift his head away, but she clutched at him. "Jack... please..."

Responding to the desperation in her voice, he lowered his head again and began stroking her with his tongue, a little faster, a little harder. His fingers moved inside her, in a hard, fast rhythm. She cried out, writhing against him, her fingers trying to tangle in his short hair as her heartbeat thundering in his ears.

He lifted his head just a little, seeing her eyes clenched shut, her mouth open as she sobbed with pleasure, and it didn't take an expert to know she was close. "Come for me, Chloe," he said softly.

He ran his tongue over her again, thrusting his fingers into her hard. She arched her head back and bit on he fist to muffle her scream as her body shuddered frantically, her inner muscles spasming around his fingers, over and over again.

At last he pulled his hand away, raised his head, and looked at her. Her body gleamed with sweat and she stared back at him with wide eyes, like she'd never really seen him before. He could understand that. This was extremely new territory between them and he wasn't exactly holding back. She didn't seem to mind though, if he muffled screams were anything to go by.

She looked at him for a moment longer, like she was trying to get her bearings, or, more likely, trying to recover. At last she flashed her wide grin and said, "Your turn."

*****************************************************************************************

Still gasping for breath, Chloe looked up at Jack. He was still standing between her thighs, his face tense, his jaw set, staring at her body as hungrily as if she were a supermodel, instead of, well, her. Her body still hummed and glowed with the aftereffects of her orgasm. She'd never come so hard in her life, and she wasn't sure if it was because of the release of stress, the slightly forbidden aspect of doing this at work, or if maybe it was just... Jack. She'd always wanted him, after all, and now she had him all to herself.

Oh, shut up, she told herself. For once, she decided to go with the flow and not over think things. Right now, she wanted to focus on Jack.

He was still staring at her, his gaze roaming over her body, his eyes so hot she could almost feel their path.   
She moved restlessly under his gaze, wishing he'd do something, instead of just standing there and looking at her. She needed his touch. Despite the incredible climax, her body was still aching deep inside. She wanted more.

She wanted him.

"Jack," she whispered. "Please."

At the sound of her voice, he seemed to snap out of his trance. He reached down, unzipped his jeans, and shoved down his boxer briefs.

Anything she might have said trailed off as he caught her legs and pulled her gently toward the edge of the desk, bracing her legs flat up against his chest. She frowned at the somewhat awkward position. "You're going to do this standing up?"

Dark lust flickered in his eyes, but there was concern for her there as well. "The desk's hard. Don't want to smoosh you."

He was between her thighs and she was still lying on her back on the desk. Her ankles were over his shoulders and, with her legs spread wide, she felt very exposed. So much so that she couldn't quite repress a heated blush. He put his hands on her thighs, squeezing gently, caressing the skin, then pressed against her, a look of intense concentration on his face. Finally, she felt the tip of him slide into her. It felt amazing, and a spasm of need rocked her.

"Jack," she whispered throatily.

He closed his eyes, breathing hard and groaned, "God, Chloe."

He pushed into her a little further, and she moaned, putting her hands onto his and squeezing. "More," she pleaded.

******************************************************************************************

Jack reveled in how good Chloe felt. Her body was soft and warm and slick and it felt like they'd been made for each other. He pressed into her slowly, carefully, making sure he wasn't pushing too hard, and in a moment he found himself buried to the hilt, deep inside her. Pleasure filled his veins with heat, and his chest felt so tight he could barely breathe.

He paused for a long moment, listening to the unsteady sound of their breathing and feeling the rapid beat of her heart. He dragged his eyelids open, even though they felt like they were weighted down with granite, and looked at her face, seeing her eyes closed, her head arched back, her face glowing with something akin to rapture. He wondered if it would always be like this or if the combination of denied attraction, exhaustion, need, stress and other factors were adding up to this.

They'd have to do extensive trials to test his theory.

Staring at her for long moments, he wanted to memorize the way she looked right now. She was so beautiful, flushed with life and passion, and he couldn't believe it had taken them this long to get to this point. After years of friendship, some fantasies and several months when there was just no time, he thought it was about damn time. Thank God she'd come to find him in his office. At least the door locked and no one dared intrude on his sanctuary, except Chloe that is.

Part of him wanted to freeze his right there and never move on, because this…this was perfect. This was peace. This was life. But at last he couldn't hold back any longer.

He pulled out of her very slowly, looking down as he did so. He wanted to watch their bodies move together as he thrust back into her, starting to make love to her in a steady, methodical rhythm.

This was what they wanted, needed, and the sensation of their bodies rocking together felt awesome, so good he couldn't stop himself from moaning and sighing. Sweat broke out on his skin, and he moved harder, faster, deeper.

He could feel her body clenching around him and she sobbed for breath, her hands clamping down on his, and then she was crying out again, almost wailing, her hips losing the rhythm and going wild against his.

"Chloe," he whispered harshly. "Oh, yes, Chloe, yes, yes..."

And then his words trailed off into inarticulate noises, frantic sounds that at a more sane moment he wouldn't have believed could come out of his mouth. His body shuddered as he climaxed, coming in an endless, hard burst of pleasure that wrenched a long cry from his chest, until his voice was hoarse from crying out, until his body shook violently and his hair was wet with sweat.

At last the ecstasy faded, and he became aware that his legs were trembling under him. Sinking into his desk chair, he pulled her into his lap and buried his face in her hair, still shaking.

"Chloe," he whispered again, pressing kisses against the top of her head. He felt like he ought to say something else, but he couldn't think of anything to say, because there was absolutely nothing in his mind beyond her name. There was nothing in his mind besides her.

*****************************************************************************************

How long they sat like that, bodies cooling and breaths slowing, Chloe didn't know, but it was nice. Jack's fingers played along her back, drawing abstract figures while she patted his chest, enjoying the friction of hair under her palm.

After a while he murmured, "Not the most romantic setting. Sorry."

She laughed into his shoulder. "We can try for romance next time, okay?"

"Sounds like a plan."

BAM! BAM!

The sound of someone banging on the door startled both of them and before Jack could shout some form of response, the person at the door spoke.

"Look, no one cares what's going on in there, but the room is not sound proof and you've traumatized the minions." It was Jo, who had apparently been released from Medical. "They've all fled and Hastings is hiding out in Medical, supposedly debriefing agents, but he's not fooling anyone. Just an FYI."

Exchanging looks of equal horror, embarrassment and amusement, Jack and Chloe fumbled for a response, before Jack managed. "Thanks for the info, Jo."

"No problem," she replied. "See ya tomorrow and, may I say, about damn time!"

After a moment, Chloe said, "I think we should take this home."

"I have no problem with that."

"Didn't think you would."

***********************************************************************************

Interlude: What were the minions thinking?

*****************************************************************************************

After the complete cluster fuck of the past several weeks, the staff of the New York branch of the CTU was as close to burnt out as they could be without actively loosing their minds. Hastings had, in a magnanimous gesture, arranged for vetted temps to watch the office to allow his people a few days of down time to recover, lick their wounds and generally unclench.

The majority of field agents were injured in one way or another, exhausted and strung out on stimulants to a point that could not be healthy. The technical and support staff, while a lot less likely to be bullet riddled, stabbed or concussed, were as dead on their feet, vision blurred from staring at their computer screens for days on end.

Brian Hastings looked around the comm center at the few Techs who were diligently backing up their systems and information in preparation for a few days rest. Nick Mankuba and Sophie Lennon were bent over their computers, usual neat business casual wear traded in for jeans and hoodies. Ron Dactylos looked to be dozing in his seat, while Trina Cooper and Milton Perlmutter were replacing damaged motherboards.

The entire room smelled like sweat, stale coffee and over loaded circuit boards. Not too long ago jack had stalked through, making a bee line for his office. No way was Hasting gonna get involved with that train wreck waiting to happen. He had a theory that one day, Bauer was just going to explode. Literally. Like all the injuries and near death experiences in his life might have built up and eventually he'd just blow.

Brian knew it wasn't physically possible, but he figured if anyone could do it, it would be Jack.

So, like the rest of the staff with common sense, he decided to leave it alone for now. Dactylos didn't so much as twitch, while Cooper and Perlmutter ducked down behind their desks. Nick and Sophie froze, like they were trying to avoid the notice of a T-Rex, and Hastings pretended to be busy with an empty folder until Bauer was safely behind closed doors.

Crisis momentarily averted, they all went about their respective jobs, until Chloe O'Brien appeared. No one quite had a handle on the relationship between the quirky tech and force of nature field agent. They just knew Jack and Chloe were a team. Jack was never overtly hostile to Chloe and she returned the favor, were even quite friendly. Everyone was fairly sure they only played by CTU rules…well, pretended to at least, because it was convenient for them to do so. Otherwise, they were a rogue force.

Which was why she didn't seem to think twice before passing them and barging into Jack's office unannounced, pulling the door closed behind her.

For a moment, everyone was silent, before Sophie's soft voice echoed in the cavernous room. "She's a brave woman."

"True," Nick said, shaking his head. "Into the lion's den without any hesitation."

Peace again, before the was a muffled crash from the office, like a coffee mug shattering, then the sounds of some furniture banging around. All heads, even Dactylos, turned to regard the office. Then, almost as one, they turned to look at Hastings, who said, "So a coffee cup fell. No reason to….:"

He was interrupted by another thump and some groaning.

"Huh, it happened. He's snapped and is killing her," Perlmutter said, looking up at the office door, eyes focused on the door jam as though expecting blood to start leaking out.

Cooper shifted nervously. "Should we do something?"

"You wanna die too?" Dactylos asked as Hastings reached for a phone to call security.

"No," Cooper said, but was interrupted by a new voice.

"Um, guys," Jo Reese had entered comms, leaning heavily on a pair of crutches. "Those aren't I'm being killed noises."

Hastings hung up the phone. "Then what…Oh. OH! In the office?"

"OH!"

"Must go. Far away. NOW!"

"Yeah I got stuff to do that isn't here..."

"Huh…"

"Good night, Sir."

The five techs were packed and out of the room faster than Brian had ever seen any of them move. Which seemed to be a good thing, as the noises from the office were getting louder and more explicit. He did sigh, however, as he noted at least four of them had their phones out and were rapidly texting. The whole staff would know about this before it was over.

He looked over at Reese, who was swinging herself into a seat by a monitor, propping her wounded leg up on a spare chair. She pulled and Ipod and ear buds from her pocket and Hastings jumped at the chance. "I have de-briefings to do down in Medical. Can you keep an eye on things up here until the next shift of temps show?"

"Yes, sir," she said, stuffing the tiny speakers into her ears to drown out the sounds filtering out form the office.

Thanking whatever Gods listened to beleaguered administrators, Hastings left the comms center, wishing he could bleach his brain. There were some things even the director of an intelligence agency did not need to know!

******************************************************************************************

After what seemed like a decent amount of time, given their relative levels of exhaustion, Jo Reese pulled an ear bud from her ear and listened intently. No longer hearing the sounds of two stressed people engaging in enthusiastic office sex, she gave a nod and pushed up and out of her chair.

Hobbling to the door, she listened again and, hearing nothing, raised her hand to deliver two sharp blows to the wood.

"Look, no one cares what's going on in there, but the room is not sound proof and you've traumatized the minions." It wasn't that no one cared, but no one would dare do anything. He was Jack Fucking Bauer. The dude terrorists checked in their closets for at night instead of the boogeyman. "They've all fled and Hastings is hiding out in Medical, supposedly debriefing agents, but he's not fooling anyone. Just an FYI."

After a moment, jack replied, "Thanks for the info, Jo."

"No problem," she shouted, then nodded at the newly arriving support personnel. "See ya tomorrow and, may I say, about damn time!"

She chuckled as she maneuvered herself away on the crutches. Medical claimed she'd be on them for a week until the skin had a chance to knit back together, at least partially. Maybe she'd head down to Medical, harass them a little, see if she could get that sentence reduced.

After all, it would be hard to chase terrorists around with crutches….though she could whack them with one.


End file.
